Chapter 249 – City of Cerna

Chapter 249 – City of Cerna

The city of Cerna hummed with life. The winding cobblestone streets echoed with the constant rhythm of hammers hitting against metal and their heavy anvils. The clink of metal and the rolling wheels of carts were the background music of the incessant chatter of its people as life was part exciting, part terrifying since the Judgement had arrived and they became the principal city of their rebelling Empress. Under the banners of the Silver Region, they began preparing for war as people were flocking to Cerna, ready to support the cause of their Empress. Mirian Ishillia's name was already on the lips of many, and since the establishment of the Empire, no ruler cared so much about its people like her.

Jorik, a blacksmith by trade, thought the same as those who were arriving in the region every day. He would have already signed up for the army if not for his bad leg. He wiped the sweat from his brow and hefted another rod of iron from the forge while thinking about it. If not on the frontline, he will do his best where he can! The metallic scent of heated steel filled the air, something he got used to very early in life. His shop, located near the city's bustling main square, had never been busier. Orders flowed in constantly—axes, swords, shields, and armor pieces for Empress Mirian's growing army.

Only a few years ago, Jorik and his fellow smiths had lived under the tight constraints of the nobility, producing fine weapons and metalwork exclusively for the aristocracy. The Zimmermann family wasn't particularly oppressive, but some sub-regions and their noble families serving the Zimmermanns were taxing the passing caravans heavily, making it increasingly expensive to do their job. Worse, if there was trouble brewing, the Imperial Edicts were forcing them into tight quotas. But now, with Duke Garbank Kustov in power and the Empress's reforms changing Ishillia, things have shifted dramatically.

"No more overbearing nobles breathing down our necks..." Jorik mused as he plunged the red-hot rod into a barrel of water, the steam hissing into the air. Under the new decrees, the blacksmiths all over the Empire were given the freedom to take on more orders, not only from nobles. Even better, they could ask for a fair price and couldn't be forced to accept lower pay just because of the difference in their ranks! "Heh, finally, someone realized that the price means not only the raw materials going into a sword but my skill and time!" He chuckled, praising his Empress's name in his head while working.

After the first time Mirian's edicts were announced, he hired two more apprentices. They were both young men like him when he took over the shop from his own father. They also came from a long line of smiths but had previously been unable to enter the trade due to the aristocracy hoarding opportunities. Now, his shop not only produced for the army but for everyday folk who, thanks to Mirian's policies, could afford better tools for their own trades. It was the best of two worlds, as he could also earn and train his apprentices by letting them forge the tools people needed. Life was never so good before...

Emira stood in the market, watching the ebb and flow of customers through the stalls and people arriving at Jorik's workshop at the end of the street. Her own booth was laden with bolts of fabric and finely embroidered tunics, cloaks, or gloves, the perfect accessories for a new armor or weapon. In Cerna's past, merchants like her had been beholden to the whims of noble families who controlled most trade. Prices had been manipulated, and competition was stifled by monopolies granted to aristocratic favorites. One of the Zimmermann sons had been among the worst, demanding exorbitant fees to trade within the city's walls... except if you were a friend of the family. Or a friend of their friends... or just had something to bribe them with.

However, the mindset had changed since the revolt and their exilement, especially after Empress Mirian's rise. The nobility's grip on commerce had loosened, and with Duke Kustov's support of the new reforms, Emira's business had flourished. She no longer had to pay exorbitant taxes or bribes just to keep her stall open.

Lenka had even received a commission to make uniforms for some of Mirian's recruits. Officers, they called them. The Empress had made Cerna her base, and the influx of soldiers and officials had breathed new life into the city. The demand for sturdy, well-made uniforms had grown, and Lenka was one of the many seamstresses benefitting from it.

"These days, it feels like the city belongs to us, not them..." she murmured as she threaded her needle, thinking back to the time when the Zimmermanns ruled. Although she liked the previous Earl, Matilda Zimmermann, she couldn't say the same about her sons. The memory of their revolt still lingered in the streets—whispers of how Reus, Maximilian, and Bastian had tried to seize control from their mother and ultimately failed, causing many to lose sons and husbands in the region. But with them gone and their power stripped away, the people of Cerna had found their own voice.

Still, they could recover because the greatest healer was always time itself.

Cerna's skyline was dominated by the spires of the ancient castle in the middle. But, right now, it was surrounded by newly erected forges, houses, and the massive, beautiful flying ship hovering above the city. Yet, it was not the most eye-catching thing either. That title belonged to the tall, human-like machine standing within the now 'Imperial Court' and was constantly being worked on, newly hammered steel armor being put onto it. It didn't take long for people to start calling it the Silver Knight... Those who witnessed the battle of the Three Sons knew even more. They saw something similar back then and knew how powerful it could be. It gave them confidence in the Empress that they could withstand when the newly announced Eternal Emperor came to reunite Ishillia.

For others, it was another sign of new things to come. The city had always been rich, its veins running deep with silver, iron, and steel, but it had been a wealth reserved for the few. Now, under Duke Kustov's steady leadership and Empress Mirian's vision for a more just empire, that wealth was being put to use in ways that improved the lives of many.

The streets were filled with the sounds of industry, but they were no longer the harsh, discordant notes of forced labor. Instead, they formed a symphony of progress—blacksmiths working with renewed purpose, merchants trading with newfound freedom, and artisans creating for a city that had finally become their own.

And as the rebellion against Pascal Ishillia gained momentum in the far corners of the Empire, Cerna stood as a beacon of what the future might hold: a city where the power of the nobility had faded and the strength of the people had begun to shine.